


Naughty Boys

by Anonymous



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fisting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anonymous Sex, Armpit Kink, Bath Sex, Bottom John Lennon, Bottom Paul McCartney, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dream Sex, F/M, Female Paul McCartney, First Time Topping, Fisting, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Frottage, Genderplay, Glory Hole, Hamburg Era, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Honeymoon, Insecurity, Intercrural Sex, Large Cock, Light Bondage, Lingerie, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Married Sex, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Painful Sex, Paris Era, Rimming, Self Confidence Issues, Sex Toys, Size Difference, Size Kink, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Top John Lennon, Top Paul McCartney, Toys, Vaginal Sex, Virginity, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26170090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This is where I'll be posting mclennon smutlets that I'm too nervous to post under my username. Enjoy!
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Mal Evans/John Lennon, Mal Evans/Paul McCartney, Mal Evans/Paul McCartney/John Lennon
Comments: 47
Kudos: 120
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Lingerie

John examined the bag full of tissue paper with slightly shaking hands. He’d bought the lingerie set months ago but had never had the nerve to put it on until tonight. At Hamburg the men in the gay bars with their stuffed bras worn over broad hairy chest and bulging knickers had both fascinated and scared him. They felt no fear. They saw his stares and winked with mascara thick lashes, pursing their painted lips. He’d turn away, averting his gaze.

Inside the bag was a white bra and silky knickers, fishnet tights and a frilly garter belt. What was he even thinking? Paul would be revolted if he saw him wearing it. He should just re-gift it to Cyn. All of this was flying through his mind as he took off his clothes and redressed into the lingerie. Staring at himself in the bedroom mirror, he admired how the white fabric made his skin look pinker, brought out the red in his hair. Then shame crashed over him all at once, sticky and unpleasant like cobwebs down his throat and stomach. He looked like a buffoon. John Lennon in bloody knickers. Jesus Christ.

He jumped at the sound of the front door opening down below.

“You home?” Paul's familiar voice called out. Panic burst through his body, his heart hammering, his skin prickling. Paul was walking up the stairs.

He needed to hide, he needed to put a dressing gown on, he couldn’t let Paul see him. Or maybe he’d like it? They’d done a lot of kinky experimental stuff together. Was this too much though? Too weird?

The bedroom door opened and he whipped around. Paul was standing there, staring, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. For a few moments there was just stunned silence. Then a grin curled onto his face, his eyes creasing up. A giggle was forming deep down in his chest. It burst out of him in a loud guffaw.

Paul was laughing, his face flushed pink with mirth. John felt his stomach do a sickening lurch like he’d missed a step walking down the stairs. Paul was laughing at him. It was all his fears come true. Next Paul would run out of his house, would ring and tell all their friends that stupid perverted Lennon was standing in his bedroom wearing women’s underwear. What a fool. What an idiot. A red hot anger flushed through him, anger at himself for putting himself in such a vulnerable position, a position to be mocked. Anger at Paul, who was supposed to love him, for mocking him in the first place. He wanted to curse and spit and hit.

“No, no, love, I’m sorry,” said Paul wiping the tears away from his eyes. “Look.”

He opened up his coat, dropping it to floor as he began to undo his trousers and kick off his shoes. Under his masculine clothing he was wearing a lavender baby doll, lacy knickers with a garter belt and soft shimmery stockings. The purple made his skin look even more porcelain white and his hair as black as a raven’s feathers.

“I thought I was going to give you a sexy surprise, but-but-bu…” he burst into fresh laughter. “We both had the same idea!”

Relief, dizzying relief. So overwhelming his legs felt wobbly, his head light and his breath uneven. He wasn’t being rejected. Everything was fine. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

“You scared the shit out of me, you bastard,” he whispered dragging a hand down his face. “I thought you were taking the piss. I thought you were gonna run off and tell the lads what an idiot perv I was.”

“I’d never,” said Paul. “I’d be a hypocrite then wouldn’t I? I’m just as much a pervert as you.”

He walked over delicately and sat down beside him. Finally after the shock, John had the chance to admire him. The masculinity of his hairy arms and legs contrasting against the girlishness of the soft purple lingerie. How the lingerie accentuated Paul’s more feminine features, made his lips look fuller and his doe-eyes more sweet, his lashes longer.

Paul’s hand was on his stocking covered leg, gliding slowly up his thigh as he took him in, his mouth slightly parted.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered. He pressed his lovely pert lips to John’s. They kissed, wet and hungry, tongues sliding against each other. John palmed at the purple fabric, felt his hot skin beneath. They lay down across the bed, feeling and pressing and squeezing their limbs and flesh together. Rubbing their cocks against each other’s firm and hairy thighs.

“You wanna fuck like girls?” Paul said with a mischievous smile. “Rub our clits together?”

John breathed in hard.

“You’re gonna kill me with that talk,” he whispered back.

Paul grinned wider and reached down. Their purple and white panties were slick with pre-come, their hard cocks tenting the fabric.

“We’re so wet,” Paul said and John groaned. Paul pulled both their red, burning cocks out and sighed with pleasure at the joining of skin. John began to rock forward, sliding his length over Paul’s.

“I love your tits,” he said to Paul, flicking his pointed nipple through the baby doll fabric. Paul’s breath caught in his throat. Their slick cockheads kissed and slipped wetly together, Paul’s hand squeezing and working them both, John’s fingers teasing Paul’s red swollen nipples. Paul’s other hand came out to pinch at one of John’s nipples.

“Yeah play with my tits, baby,” John breathed out harshly. Paul’s eyelids fluttered, mouth hanging open as he panted. His face was glowing red. He was growing close. John felt the surging deep down in his belly that said he nearing his own climax as well.

John reached down, enclosed his hand over Paul’s, felt their joined dampness. He knew how much Paul loved his hands, loved how they were bigger and stronger than his own. Paul’s smaller hand was completely enveloped.

“N-n-not fair,” Paul murmured weakly as his body shook uncontrollably. He was spurting hot fluid all over John’s thighs. John felt a laugh deep in his chest as he took over jerking their cocks together. Paul pinched his nipple and he spasmed in his embrace. He thrust against his softening cock harder and harder, his breathing a desperate wreck.

“That’s it sweet girl,” Paul whispered and John swore, ejaculating against the other man’s soft, hairy stomach. They lay there together, damp with sweat, trying to catch their breath, holding onto each other for dear life.

“Do you say that to all the slags?” John finally whispered to Paul who scoffed and buried his face in his neck.

“You’re my slag,” he replied, making John laugh.

“So romantic,” he replied as they snuggled together in their sticky lingerie, their legs entangled. He wasn’t a pervert, a deviant or a degenerate. Not with Paul around.


	2. Glory Holes

Only something this depraved and exciting could exist in Hamburg. John explained it briefly, tugging the leather of Paul's sleeve as he took him down the dark streets of the city.

“I went once and it’s just a wall of glory holes,” he said. “But it’s not just for getting your dick sucked, there’s bigger glory holes where you can fuck arse as well.”

Paul feels a thrum of nerves in his chest. Although he is experienced with girls, John is the only boy he’s ever had sex with. He imagines all the fresh mouths and holes he can put his cock into and the bottom of his belly surges with heat.

He’s led into an unassuming door down a grimy alleyway. There’s a booth with a dark figure behind it counting money and four doors, two on either side. John glances at him.

“Receiving is cheaper,” he says. “You wanna fuck or get fucked?”

Paul feels his heart pound in his throat. His face is flushed and he can’t stop the wild grin on his face.

“Bloody hell I’m good with either,” he says, choking back laughter. “Wanna flip a coin on it?”

John laughs at that, sounding slightly hysterical. They’re like overexcited boys let loose in a toy shop.

“Heads we get head,” says John and they stifle giggles. “Tails, um…what’s a good joke for tails?”

“I dunno,” Paul replies and they clutch at each other trying not to dissolve into laughter. The figure in the booth tuts impatiently. John flips the coin. He holds his hand over it, building the tension.

“C’mon you git,” Paul says, giving him a slight shove. John reveals the coin. It’s tails.

“Good, cause I’m getting low on cash,” John says and they burst into fresh snickers. Turning to the booth, they pay the small fee.

John takes his arm and pulls him to the door second from the right. It’s a long narrow room, lit with red fluorescent light with soft red carpet and ledges. Some of the holes in the wall were large with black vinyl flaps that you could stick your legs through. Other holes were smaller with shutters you could pull to the side to open and close. Paul sees a few men already occupying the room. Some had taken the larger holes and were lying on their backs or stomachs, their bottom halves disappearing through the vinyl flaps. It was too dark to see them properly but he heard their moans of pleasure as their bodies jerked back and forward with thrusts. Other men were kneeling by the smaller holes, cocks pumping inside their mouths. Some men were just sitting by and watching, their hands stuffed down their trousers.

Paul was hard, harder then he’d ever been. It all felt so unbearably naughty and forbidden. A room full of men sucking cock and getting fucked.

John gestured over at an empty space, with a smaller opening and a larger opening beside each other. Paul watched as the older boy strips off his jacket and shirt and dropped his leather trousers and underwear, revealing a red straining cock, wet at the head. He got down on his hands and knees and wriggled backwards, his legs sliding through the vinyl flaps. There was a pause as they both waited. Then John was pulled roughly back and he let out a gasp.

“He’s got his fingers in me,” John whispered to Paul who was standing there gawping. “He’s lubing me up.”

There was a resounding smack from the other side of the wall and John’s face flushed bright red through the darkness. Then he pulls a pained expression, mouth falling open.

“Oh fuck,” he manages to keen out. His fox coloured hair falls over his eyes, a vein in his neck stands out as the flush spreads down his chest. Then his body starts to jerk forward, cock growing fuller and redder with each thrust.

Paul feels like he might just come right there in his underwear, without even touching himself. He’s aching for release. The humid stink of semen and masculine sweat is hot and overwhelming, making his blood feel like it’s boiling over, his skin steaming with heat.

He gets down on his knees and pulled the shutter of the smaller hole next to John open. He propped his chin there and opened his mouth, waiting. He’d never done this to anyone but John before. For a few moments there was nothing. Then he heard footsteps walking over to him. He could see the opening of a man’s fly in front of his face and a nicely sized cock offered towards him. Around the same size as John’s, a bit skinnier.

The tears prickled in his eyes as the man on the other side of the wall pushed the dark, shiny head past his lips.

He took a hold of the shaft and started to slide his plush lips up and down. The man on the other side let out a sigh. Paul loved how stuffed full his mouth was, each thrust sliding all the way down his throat making him gag every time. Spit gathered around the base of the other man’s cock, soaking his pubic hair as he pushed inside of him again and again.

Sliding his eyes to the side, he sees John staring at him, face slack as he watches Paul work the other man’s cock. Fresh dizzying waves of arousal blooms deep in his belly. There’s a slow lovely pain deep in his jaw. Stuffing a hand into his underwear he feels himself, red hot and aching.

He sees through teary eyes, the other man’s thick hairy thighs quiver with contractions. The cock is shoved all the way into his throat as he comes straight into his stomach. It’s a long orgasm, load after load filling up Paul’s belly. He gags again, fresh wave of saliva surging down over the other man’s balls, pulsating against his chin.

Then he slowly pulls out his soft dick from Paul’s abused mouth. Paul sits back on his haunches, gasping for breath, licking his sticky lips. He slides the shutter closed.

Behind him, he can see one of the larger holes has been left empty. The man who had been using it taps Paul on the wrist. He speaks in German and Paul understands a few words in the question;

“Swap?”

He nods and gets out of the way. The German slides the shutter open, propping his chin on the ledge like Paul had done before. Paul sees someone heading for the hole the German had just left and quickly goes over before it’s taken.

He didn’t think he’d get fucked tonight. He thought he’d just suck a bunch of cocks and jerk off. But he’s swept up with the excitement and debauchery of it all. He pulls everything off from his leather trousers to his sweat-soaked shirt. Then he squirms backwards, naked arse pushing through the flaps to the other side of the wall.

John and Paul were face to face now on their hands and knees, John’s body jerking forward with thrusts. His face was scarlet, hair slicked over his eyes that were rolled back in his head. The carpet beneath his cock was wet with spunk. He’d come already. The thought of it made Paul’s skin prickle with heat, his breath heavy in his chest.

The voice of the stranger fucking John, murmured out something harsh and heavy in German.

“Ich spreche kein Deutch,” John gasped back, his voice wrecked. The only phrase he knew that meant “I don’t speak German.”

“Stretch it further,” the stranger behind the wall spoke in gruff English. “Stretch your hole.”

John took his hand off his swollen cock and reached down, pulling his cheeks obscenely wide.

Paul stared as the oil oozed down John thighs. Then the sounds started up again, moist smacking against John’s used entrance.

Suddenly, Paul heard big thumping footsteps behind him and the younger man felt hands on his hips. A wet slick finger was probing his hole, stretching it. Paul grasped at his own cock, gasping at the feeling. The stranger’s hands were much larger and stronger then John’s and the clunk of his footsteps were heavy. He imagined he was a huge, burly guy with muscles. Maybe a sailor all covered in tattoos and thick hair.

The second finger felt unbearably big and he squirmed, his cock bouncing between his legs. His face curled up with the discomfort. The hands on his hips tightened. There was a pause and more lube was added to the stranger’s hand.

When the third finger eased inside, Paul was lost. He felt his mind slid into a complete and utter blankness, all the noise just shutting off. It was replaced with a warm fuzz that tingled all through his skin. He lay there eyes glazed, mouth hanging open, lips wet with spit. The stranger’s fingers were hurting his hole so wonderfully. It was like the whole world was just his hole pulsing red hot and burning, the thick, probing fingers squelching in deeper and deeper. He felt like the stranger could stroke his heart from the inside.

John was staring into his face.

“What are they doing?” he breathed towards him.

“Just fingeri…oh!” he nearly yelped as the blunt head of a cock was pressed against his hole. Then he yelped louder as a large hand smacked against arse-cheek.

Paul felt the swollen head of the cock ease inside him. The stranger felt monstrously big.

John was panting, voice a hoarse croak.

“You look so good when you’re being fucked,” he gasped. Paul had to clench his eyes shut. Looking at the raw pleasure in John’s face was too much. He’d come early if he looked any longer.

The stranger couldn’t get every inch inside Paul at first, his abused rim straining around the width. Slipping back out, Paul’s head rocked to the side as he felt his hole begin to wink a slick wet noise. The stranger greased up again, fingers wet at Paul’s thigh, cock saturated with oily lube. He pushed in inch by agonizing inch, paused, grunting as he struggled against the resistance. He reached down, fingers pushing his legs further apart. Paul was silent, knuckles stuffed in his wet mouth, as he felt fresh spit and tears ooze down his face, his angry red cock leaking like a tap.

A hand brushed his face and his eyes fluttered open. He stared in John’s dark, lust laden eyes. Then he stroked his hand across Paul’s cheek, his thumb against his bottom lip. As he pressed it inside his mouth, Paul sucked on it without thinking. John’s eyes were burning as he leaned forward and pressed their mouths together.

As he kissed him, John slipped his fingers through his hair, taking a firm hold of it, not hard enough to hurt. Just a good strong hold to make Paul feel all limp and warm.

His hole trembled and then finally gave, the stranger’s balls jamming up against his cheeks. His whole lower half was alive with pleasure. It was glorious agony. His felt full, full of burning pulsating flesh, felt stretched beyond breaking point. The stranger cooed at him, pressing his hand to his distended belly. They both felt the bulge through the skin, as though he were pregnant with his cock and cum. He felt too hot, almost feverish like he was burning up and away into nothing.

His and John’s mouths move messily together, noses bumping, teeth clacking as they jerk endlessly forward as they’re relentlessly fucked. John whispers into his mouth;

“This is the third cock that’s been in me.”

Paul felt himself get rougher almost at once. He forced his tongue inside John’s mouth, feeling him shudder against him. Their stubble scratched together.

He hears the stranger say something behind him;

“Squeeze yourself on me.”

It’s the first thing he’d ever said to him. He was English, vaguely Cockney sounding. Paul obeyed, weakened hole tightening as much as it could around him. The pressure made it impossible for the stranger’s cock to surge forward and it was wetly expelled from the bruised and puffy orifice. The stranger pressed and pressed until with a broken sob Paul let him in again, forced to unclench.

“Again,” the stranger said as Paul cried out into John’s mouth, tightening for him. The stranger’s cock was slowly, steadily forced out and then when the head plopped free, he pushed, pushed against the resistance and then his hole gave and he slid back in.

“You’re such a good boy,” the stranger whispered. Paul could only let out an animalistic whine in response. John pulls away from the kiss and takes Paul’s hand, squeezing tight, a familiar anchoring gesture. Paul rests his head in the sweat-slick crook of John’s neck.

Paul’s hole and prostate felt utterly punished. His distorted belly was soaked with semen and sweat. All he had to do was lightly brush his blood-red cockhead and the orgasm hit, his mind static, his skin trembling away from his bones, tingling pleasure like he was being stroked all over with thousands of feathers. His cock spewed white liquid onto his skin and the world was just a mindless blur. The stranger was still working himself in and in and in and out and out and out, thrusting and thrusting, the slapping and smacking of his engorged balls loud against Paul’s quivering bum.

The thick liquid began to fill up Paul’s hole. He was deep, deep, so deep inside his belly, the skin of his stomach jamming forward with his merciless thrusts. It oozed out, creamy and dripping down his thighs. The organ slipped out and Paul’s hole gaped open.

For a moment he wondered if he should stay or go. As soon as the stranger backed off him, a smaller, clammier hand was on his thigh. His cock twitched with interest. He wanted to stay.

The new man had a huge fat stomach that weighed heavily down on Paul’s hips. He was still gaping open from the last huge cock. The new man was not as big, smaller then John but extremely girthy.

The new man slipped inside with ease. He began to jam forward at once, the rim of his hole trembling hopelessly as it was brutally bashed again and again.

His eyes were staring unseeingly forward, mouth drooling. His whole world just white hot pleasure.

“This is the second,” he manages to breathe out to John who squeezes his hand tighter. He feels like John might break his fingers, snap them like twigs. The older boy is grunting desperately, clutching at his cock, coming again all over his trembling legs. The man fucking John cries out at the tightening of his walls.

“That’s a third load dumped in me,” John breaths against Paul’s lips.

The new man fucking Paul, pushed and he pushed, with wet popping sounds, his balls pressed snug and heavy against him, until Paul thought his hips might snap under his weight.

He could feel the long thick vein pumping against the hot spongy flesh of his insides, felt his engorged balls throbbing against the thin, delicate skin of his taint. The unrelenting pressure against his beaten prostate made the ejaculate endlessly flow from his glowing red cockhead. The new man was panting, panting, the sound coming deep from his stomach.

Paul was in a sea of bliss, his whole body alight with tingling heat, tickling all through his skin. His weeping cock bounced full and pink between his thighs. His tears were trickling down over face. Each torturous slam against his prostate made white hot pleasure explode through him.

John kisses his cheek. He whispers; “my pretty boy,” against his skin. Paul’s body was liquid heat as he jams his fist between his legs. He spends himself into his hand and John kissed his fluttering eyelids. The new man’s balls contracted and then emptied, feeding his hole that obediently swallowed every last drop of thick hot come.

Paul pulls away from the vinyl flaps and John does the same. They look over and see a few of the watching men jerking their cocks at the sight of them. Immediately John puts his arms over Paul’s damp shoulders, drawing him into an embrace. Their swollen nipples brush, their sweaty skin sliding wetly together. John’s chest feels firm and solid. He kisses him languidly, one hand sliding down to press against the sticky mess behind Paul’s thighs. Paul mirrors his movements without thinking, playing with John’s spent, soggy cock. They collect each other’s seed and brings it to their mouths, John pressing his fingers passed his red puffy lips, Paul delicately licking his spunk soaked hand.

Then they kiss again, to fresh groans of delight from the watching men. Their combined come is salty and bitter in their mouths.

As they break away, he vaguely thinks that they’ve never done anything as dirty as that before.

“Show off,” he grins against John’s cheek. John grips his hair and brings him in for another sloppy kiss, saliva and come dripping from the chins.

“You too,” he breaths back lovingly.


	3. Bath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick thing I shot out. Enjoy! Suggest things if you'd like!

He doesn’t want to be in the hotel bar, smoking and drinking and pretending to have a good time with the crowd of socialites and groupies. John just wants to collapse in bed and sleep the weekend away. Paul had tapped out early, no doubt having pulled a bird to have some fun with. John wasn’t in the mood to socialise but hadn’t wanted to go to their hotel room and interrupt Paul and whatever girl he was banging.

His mood slowly soured as the night progressed. He could be asleep, but he was stuck here with fawning idiots and arse-lickers. All these stupid girls fluttering their eyelashes at him, these stupid guys laughing way too hard at his sarcastic jabs. Why couldn’t Paul have just stayed here with him? It would have been more fun with him around. They’d exchange looks and secret smiles, makes jokes only they understood, privately laughing at all these try-hards and pretenders.

The familiar insecurity had crept in. Line up John next to a blonde big-titted slag and he’d always be left behind. He was always second best to Paul.

Maybe he could just go up to their room and spoil their fun. Act like he didn’t know they were busy and insist on them all play a card game together, ignoring their growing discomfort. Just like when they were kids and he’d tagged along on one of Paul’s dates, making sure to be as obnoxious and nasty to his little girlfriend as possible.

A part of it was a desperate cry for attention. Even if he got it for acting like a dick, it was still attention right? Another part of it was just pettiness. This is what happens when you leave me behind, Paul. But it was also a test, a silly pathetic test that no matter how badly he behaved, Paul wouldn’t leave him. It didn’t matter how much of a shit he was, Paul never got angry at him, even when he cut up the hooker’s clothes in Hamburg or asked that posh snob Asher how girls masturbated. Paul would always laugh and reassure whatever bird he was with that John was alright really, he was just playing around. Paul would always pick him in the end.

He got up, saying a quick goodbye to George and Ringo, who were both actually enjoying themselves even though they were so far above the dregs they were associating with. Perhaps they were just better at pretending then he was.

Sullenly he stalks away as one of the idiots whispers “what’s his problem?”

Soon he is storming towards his and Paul’s bedroom. Maybe he should knock and then barge in anyway. How is he going to make everyone the most uncomfortable?

He decides to knock and get Paul out of bed and into a dressing gown, really ruining the moment. As he approaches the hotel door a part of him is already starting to feel guilty at his nasty plan. But it’s like he’s possessed. He just can’t stop himself.

“Come in,” Paul’s sweet voice trails out when he knocks. Great, the plan’s already screwed. Ah well. John opens up the door, bracing himself for the dank sweaty sex smell.

There’s nothing. The bedroom is dark and the bed is empty. There are no high-heels kicked off or a dress and lacy panties crumpled on the ground. The bathroom door is hanging open, soft warm light piercing through the darkness of the rest of the hotel room.

John walks over, peering inside. His breath hitches. Lying in a steamy tub of bubbly water speckled with rose petals and surrounded by flickering candles is Paul, looking coquettishly up at him with his doe eyes.

“What took you so long?” says Paul. “I thought the water was gonna go cold.”

A cocktail of emotions go through him. Relief at Paul wanting him and only him and strong powerful lust at the sight of his wet pink naked body, all hard red nipples and half erect cock. Anger at himself, for getting himself into a sulk over nothing.

“I thought you’d pulled a bird or something,” he says as he steps out of his shoes and starts to take off his clothes. Paul’s face furrows up with confusion.

“What?” he says. “I thought I was being really obvious, ‘oh John I’ll see you upstairs in our room.”’

Then he giggles.

“Next time I’ll just be straight forward and say “’John lets go and fuck.”’

John laughs as well as he goes over to the bath.

“I’m a daft sod obviously, that’s the only thing that’ll get the message into my thick head,” he said as he gingerly climbs inside. The water is blissfully hot and the smell of roses fill up his nose as he lowers himself into the heat.

“My silly Johnny,” whispers Paul as he climbs into John’s outstretched arms. They press their mouths together, a slow, wet kiss. He’ll never get over how soft Paul’s lips are, like kissing silk. His stubble is growing in and it scratches against his own. He slides his hand over Paul’s wet black hair, down the smooth skin of his back.

Paul pulls away his head and nuzzles at John’s armpit.

“You’re depraved,” he whispers as he puts his arm up. Paul stuffs his nose into the sweaty hairy pit. He sticks out his pink tongue, licking the skin there, whimpering as he breaths in John’s smell like he was a drowning man heaving in precious oxygen. John squirms at his tickling mouth.

They are both painfully hard now, their cocks like iron rods in the bubbly water.

He reluctantly pushes Paul's head away. Laying Paul down, the water surges around them as he gets between his plump furry thighs. He presses his face into Paul’s squishy belly, grips into the wobbly flesh of his bum, licks his hairy navel. Paul muffles a giggle at the ticklish feeling, squirming in the hot water. His skin is flushed pink and his forehead is dotted with sweat, his eyes fluttering closed.

Paul clutches at his hand, his smaller fingers tracing John’s broad knuckles, the strong, thick wrist.

“Your hands,” he sighs.

John drifts down lower. Paul has such a lovely fat pink hole, just meant to be played with.

“Oh fuck John,” he gasps as John presses his mouth there. He swipes his tongue around the quivering pucker, licking and dousing it with saliva. It opens up for him and he presses the red muscle of his tongue into the hot depths of Paul’s arse. He laps and sucks and jabs his tongue in deeper and harder. He can taste his salty flesh all day for the rest of his life and die a happy man. Above him Paul is shaking and moaning, rough and guttural right from his belly.

He pulls away. His once tight hole is now glistening with spit, winking delightfully open and closed. Gasping for breath, John sticks his finger into his own mouth, wetting it. Then he reaches down and presses it in, watching the knuckle disappear into Paul’s body.

He plays with the other man’s hole, just teasing the smooth soft bulge of his prostate. He pops his finger in and out, over and over until Paul thrashes, water splashing onto the bathroom floor. His pink little cock spews semen all over his chubby stomach. He hadn’t even touched himself. John feels a swell of pride and utter adoration for the gorgeous man in his arms.

He sits up as Paul struggles to catch his breath, black strands of hair over his eyes. John is painfully hard, his cock bobbing against his stomach. Paul sends him a devilish smirk and slides his foot up the inside of John’s legs towards his crotch.

The dreadful tease knows he has a thing for feet and constantly grabbed the opportunity to walk around barefoot. His rubs the ball of his foot over John’s balls and he gasps. He uses his toes to stroke over the bright red cockhead, teasing out white pearls of pre-come. The sole flexes and curls as he rubs his foot against his cock until he comes, the muscles of his belly quivering and weak, his body shaking with the boiling waves of his orgasm.

His come is between all of Paul’s toes. He takes his foot and pulls it towards him. He licks the semen from his toes, sucks them into his mouth. He tongues down the side of his foot, mouths the curve of his ankle. His foot curls and uncurls in his hand.

“You call me depraved,” Paul whispers, a blissed out smile on his pretty face. John just laughs. There was no place in the world he would rather be.


	4. Firsts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request by SevielCiel  
> 'Can I ask of Paul topping John and absolutely destroying his arse?'  
> Hope you enjoy!

As the ted got between John’s legs, he saw he was almost trembling with nerves and excitement. He couldn’t help but smile. His inexperience was completely endearing.

Paul was just a baby. He’d never taken anyone up the arse before, not even a bird. John had insisted that he bugger Paul first as he was ‘older.’

“Don’t think it’s just gonna be me getting screwed every time!” Paul had protested as John had hiked his furry legs over his shoulders. “I wanna have a go too!”

“Of course Paulie,” he’d grinned back, leaning down to kiss him on his little button nose. Paul had been a lovely pink-faced mess, squirming beneath him as his hole was breached for the first time. Now it was John’s turn.

To be honest, he didn’t expect the younger boy to be that good. It was his first time. The first time John had taken someone up the arse the unbelievable heat and tightness had finished him off embarrassingly fast.

He lay there, a smug smile on his face, his hands behind his head, lifting an eyebrow to say; “go on, give me your best shot.”

Paul just smiled all cute and doe-eyed back at him.

He cradled John's face and then slid two fingers between his lips, slipping them in and out. After a few moments he added a third. John made sure to get as much saliva drooling down Paul’s hand and wrist as he could. Paul pulled his legs up, bending them at the knee and then slipped his wet fingers from his mouth, traveling down his body. There was a slight pressure at his hole and then Paul pushed a finger inside.

John bit back a strangled sound deep in his chest. Paul looked up at him with a coy little grin on his face. His lovely fingers brushed against the softness of his prostate. He went all the way down to the knuckle and then pulled it out again. He started a rhythm, slow at first and then steadily picking up the pace. He squirmed and Paul rested a hand on his stomach all gentle.

He remembered how when he’d first taken Paul, he’d just pulled his legs down the bed and took him hard and fast. No soothing touches. Next time he wanted to stroke Paul’s hair and kiss him all over. For a second he felt a touch of resentment that he was learning how to have sex from a younger lad. But the pleasure soon overcame all negative feelings, crashing through him like waves of hot sticky honey.

John’s eyes fell closed, feeling Paul’s hand resting on his stomach, hearing the wet noises of the man slicking up his cock. He felt the man sliding his cockhead against his hole a few times before pressing the tip inside. John let out a shaky moan, Paul pushing through the resistance.

“Let me in, baby,” he whispered, his hand hot against his skin. John gasped and with a slick pop, Paul slid inside. God he was so lovely, so gentle, so sweet. He felt his throat close up as a sudden explosion of emotion filled him. He went deeper and deeper. The stretched rim of his hole ached and ached. Then an unbelievable pressure against his prostate that made his own cock twitch, completely filled up, as he let a choked-out moan.

Paul's hips began to smack forward, thumping against him. One of his hands was at the inside of his leg, the other cupped in his hair. They were so close, their slick hot bodies nearly melding together. It hurt so sweet and so good. His head was full of Paul’s groans, his own shaky gasps. 

It didn’t take long for Paul to lose his composure. The gentle touch turned into panting and desperate roughness, his hips slamming forward. His red face was dripping sweat, wet black strands of hair hanging onto John’s forehead, his plush mouth hanging open and his eyes rolled back. Hard and fast, the wet, smacking sounds ringing in his ears, that sweet spot inside him being battered relentlessly. His narrow hips pounding against his arse, hard, hard, hard.

The familiar trembling had started deep down in his belly. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t get it under control. He orgasmed, a white stream his stomach and he heard the man whisper above him, “oh god, oh god.”

Paul was still going, his rhythm relentless. John felt his own trembling turn to spasms, bordering on painful. He clenched his fists in the sheets, open-mouthed and dewy eyed.

Paul stroked down his cheek, hooking a finger in his lip. John was limp and boneless as his thrusts got longer. John’s insides were flooded with come as Paul heaved out his name above him.

With a wet, slurping sound, Paul pulled out, pressing the head of his cock against him to squeeze out the last few drops. His come was hot, trickling inside his hole. John squirmed at the ticklish feeling of it. He still felt blissed out from the orgasm, like he was floating out of his body.

“Shit,” John gasped out. “Shit.”

Paul collapsed beside him, completely spent. He felt a slight sense of pettiness that Paul had lasted about as long as he had during his first time on top. Still, he reckoned Paul had won, he had to give him that. The bastard.

“Goddamn you Paul McCartney,” he said, rolling over to envelop the other boy in a hug, burying his face into his sweaty shoulder. “Why’re you so bloody good at everything?”

Paul laughed.

“I learnt from the best,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send me a request if ya feel like it


	5. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request by Hxrny_Mxcca  
> 'I’d like to see a female John x Paul with Top!John 🥺 I think that’d be really cool ❤️'  
> Hope you enjoy!

He could hear the other lads splashing away in the resort pool outside his window but Paul felt completely sleepy. He decided he might as well take a nap before they went out that night. Pulling his duvet over his head, he snuggled down into the warm comfortable bed that he and John were sharing, despite the second bed in the room. The pillows smelt of John’s cologne, aftershave and that warm musky sweat that was uniquely his. He buried his head down, breathing in the aroma wishing he could drown in it. He was asleep in no time.

The apartment in Paris, beautiful Paris, with grey skies, pavement slick with rain, café windows glowing with light. Staring out the window on the bed, with John young and lovely. This body felt different all of a sudden. Hair brushing the slimmer shoulders. A heaviness at the chest, a smooth curviness of the legs and hips, something strange and foreign between the legs. Sliding a hand down across the pretty sheer nightie, feeling the swell of breasts and the hairless belly. Down further, underneath a lacy pair of knickers, feeling the soft black pubic hair and a hot wetness.

“Oh Paula, you randy slag,” John murmured. “Stop playing with yourself.”

Of course. She was Jane Paula McCartney. She’d always been. A young lass greatly desired by many a Liverpool lad with her Snow White features, raven black hair, porcelain skin, soft red lips and doe eyes the colour of summer grass, green speckled with browns and gold.

Snow White for more than one reason, they’d all gossip. Frigid cold, wouldn’t let anyone take her precious flower. Saving herself for that Teddy Lennon of all people, the jealous lads would sneer.

No one knew they were married yet. They eloped in an office with only George as witness. Now they were in Paris in a cheap hotel room. Maybe not the most extravagant of honeymoons but it was enough for them. Perfect.

She snuggled up into his lean, strong arms, smelling his neck. No-one knew the real John, warm and lovely and vulnerable. They played guitars together, mirror images in the bedroom, hiding away from disapproving aunties and fathers. Singing songs they’d written with each other, wishing of stardom and fame.

No-one else took her passion for music seriously. Silly girl with dreams of the stage, who’d sooner or later learn to quieten down and put on her apron like a good housewife. Not John. John wanted to travel to the moon with her, not keep her bound, having his babies and keeping his house clean.

As the sky darkened from grey to indigo outside the window, she felt an excited anticipation in her heart. Tonight, she felt ready to lose her virginity to her beloved Johnny.

Not that they’d been an utterly sexless couple. Far from it. In Hamburg they had sex every way you could think of without actual penetration. They invited hookers into their bed, John delighted in seeing blonde Bardot lookalikes nuzzled between Paula’s shuddering thighs.

She thought John and her could die happy giving each other head. It was like heaven, lying on top of John, his clever tongue lapping hungrily at her clit as she slid her full red lips up and down his shaft, both in an eager competition to make the other come first.

Or John would hug her from behind, as Paula squeezed her thighs together. Then he’d slide his swollen cock between them. The ticklish feeling of it underneath her shivering cunt made her feel like she was filled with simmering warm water. John loved her tits. He’d have a steady thrusting rhythm going, both hands groping at her chest. Pinching and stroking and pressing. He liked how her nipples went silken soft to pointy hard under his guitar calloused fingers. Her half-lidded eyes would be fixed on the deep purple glistening cockhead slipping again and again underneath her pulsing heat. It felt as swollen and hard as rock against the delicate skin of her thighs and taint.

She knew when John was about to come, cause he’d push his nose into her hair, breathing deep and low. Then the release, his hands pressing just short of painful nto her chest, the come pouring from him, wet and hot down the inside of Paula’s legs.

Then he’d slip his hand down to her aching clit, just teasing it with the tip of his finger. Her orgasm made her squeeze him even tighter, made John groan into his hair. Paula would squish around in his arms, curl her legs and arms around him like an octopus and shove her face into the man’s solid sweaty chest.

She felt nervous about that whole other unexplored world of sex. She’d heard too many horror stories. Her legs clenched involuntarily as she shivered, remembering being told of the pain, the tearing and the bleeding. That wasn’t her idea of a good time.

But she wanted to do this with John. Her rough and tough Ted, with a secret soft side that was as gentle and loving as a purring housecat.

Kissing the strong line of his jaw, she whispered in his ear; “I think I’m ready Johnny.”

John’s eyes flew open with almost comical shock and then excitement. He grinned from ear to ear.

“Really love?” he whispered back and she felt her cheeks flush as she nodded.

They pressed their mouths together, hands sliding up to tangle in each other’s hair. John had the softest lips, contrasting with the roughness of his stubble. Her tongue danced inside the man’s mouth, feeling him shudder against her. His beard scratched her skin.

John swung a leg over her hip, pulling himself on top of her, a familiar, comforting weight. She stroked her toes stroked down his side, pressing slightly into his ribs

He thumbed Paula’s nipples through her nightie, feeling them harden to a point. Then he pulled the fabric up over her head, tweaking her red nipples until she squirmed and gasped. She pushed her foot down over to his crotch, pressing against the firm jut of his cock. John took her ankle, rubbing himself against the naked sole.

Then he put his face on her belly, licking the sweat slick skin, nosing down further and further. Paula let out a shuddering gasp as he mouthed at her sweet cunt through her soaked panties. His teeth caught the fabric, pulling it down and she squirmed on the mattress. He went up again, to nose at her burning heat, the thick red muscle of his tongue flicking at her silken inner flesh. His tongue worked delicately against her throbbing clit just the lightest feather touch to drive her wild.

“Oh John, John, John,” she gasped, reaching down to grasp at his messy auburn locks.

He pulled away his chin glistening with her fluids. Then he parted her thighs and rose up above her. His underwear was tented, his cock straining, a wet spot on the fabric. He pulled himself free, stroking himself. For a moment there was a tingle of fear in her heart but then he smiled at her so sweet and loving and she felt like her chest was melting. His large hand went down to cup her face. She turned into his palm, eyes fluttering closed, her lips parting in a tiny slightly shy smile.

“My princess,” he murmured and then bent down to press their mouths together again. She tasted herself on his tongue as she felt the swollen head of his cock tease her inner lips. He was moving, slowly, carefully inside like she was precious and fragile.

The stretch was strange, alien and her face tightened with discomfort. His mouth moved to just below her ear, pressing a kiss there. She sighed, the ticklish feeling prickling all over her body like a thousand butterflies teasing her skin.

Her half-shut eyes quivered, lashes fluttering, as his sweat-soaked hair fell across her flushed face, her lips all swollen and spit-slicked. His fingertips were ghosting over her breasts and stomach, ticklish.

Then she shivered violently as John began rocking in and out of her. It felt like he was right up in her belly, hot length stretching and filling every inch of her. Hitting her very inner core with every rock of his narrow hips. Her crown smacked against the wall and John protectively slid his hand down to cradle her head.

Still plunging in and out of her aching cunt, he leaned down, his frame pressing down heavily against her body, his chest squashing against her breasts. She rubbed her nipples against his and felt him shiver all over. Then she brushed her mouth across the man’s jaw and against his lips. John’s tongue prodded against hers. Stuffing his hand down between them, he touched her, fingers brushing against his own cock, felt the straining rim of her hole, feeling how they were connected. She started making hitching sounds deep in her throat as he began to pick up the pace, thumbing at her clit.

He broke away, groaning and pulled her shaking legs up against his flushed and freckled shoulders. He kissed her ankle, thumping in harder and harder. He was glowing pink from the top of his forehead all the way down his chest.

A spasm shook through her and she squeezed John’s cock hot and painful. Then there was a second harsher wave as her mouth fell open, eyelids fluttering. Her orgasm poured down her thighs and she let out a shaky gasp, her lips plush and wet.

She felt like her insides had collapsed into hot water, spikes of overwhelming pleasure shooting through her body. She couldn’t stop coming and coming and coming, John’s thumb pressed to her twitching overstimulated clit. The pleasure was almost painful and she let out a piercing cry like an animal.

“Oh Jesus, fuck, Paula, Paula, Paula,” he cried like a prayer, eyes rolling up.

He rested his forehead against the inside of her foot as he filled her up with come. He clumsily pawed with big fingers across her ribs, up her body to her neck, feeling her thumping pulse. He was still buried deep, deep inside her.

“I love you,” they breathed out weakly to each other. “I love you.”

*

His eyes slowly opened, lips parted, cheeks burning red. His underwear was sticky with come and his chest was alight with the remnants of tingling pleasure. There was a weight on the bed beside him and he looked to see John, smelling of chlorine from the pool, grinning cheekily down at him, his hand tangled in Paul’s hair.

“Didn’t want to wake you,” he said in a teasing voice. “You really seemed to be enjoying your dream.”

Paul laughed a little with sheepish embarrassment as he rested his forehead against John’s shoulder.

“I dreamt I was a bird,” he whispered to the older man. “You popped my cherry.”

John’s cheeks flushed. Then his eyes dissolved in liquid heat.

“If you were really a girl,” he said. “I’d have married you.”

Paul’s heart fluttered. Taking a hold of John’s neck, he pulled him down for a kiss, sweet and tender. In another world, the newlyweds were doing the same in their Paris honeymoon bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask for a request if ya feel like it! 😊


	6. Threesome

They were visiting a beach and Mal had decided to give Paul a piggyback. The younger, smaller man screeched with delight as he was hauled easily up in his large strong arms and onto his shoulders. As Mal walks them around the hot searing sand, Paul feels the firm flesh, heated by the sun underneath his thighs. He can feel the muscles work as the larger man walks as easily as if he had a ragdoll on his shoulders around the beach.

When Mal places him gently back onto the sand again, Paul looks over. John is sulking, arms crossed, eyes dark with displeasure. Paul feels a thrum of guilt. He knows that this is hitting John right in his insecurities and he swears he doesn’t mean to upset him. He just has a naturally flirtatious personality.

He goes up to him with an apologetic smile and wraps his arms around John’s neck.

“I’d never choose anyone over you, you know that,” he says into his ear. “If I did find anyone I thought was super sexy, I’d want to share them with you if anything. Mal would be good for a threesome, but he could never take your place.”

He pulls away and pecks John on the lips. John has a strange unreadable look on his face as he turns to peer at Mal. His eyes travel up and down his tall, strong build.

“Threesome eh? That’s an idea isn’t it?” said John and for a second he doesn’t know if he’s being snide. John just stares at the roadie and a slight smile plays at his lips.

“He could really throw us around,” he went on and by the dark tone of interest in his voice Paul realises all at once that he’s being serious. He leans forward and presses his lips under John’s ear, feels the shiver wrack through him.

“Oh for sure,” Paul whispered. “Break both our backs fucking the shit out of us.”

John’s slight smile grows wider until it’s more of a mischievous grin.

“Hey Mal!” he calls and the bigger man turns around.

*

Mal’s eyes are wide with shock through his thick rimmed glasses. They three of them are sitting on the hotel bed together.

“You want me to what?” he stuttered out at them. John and Paul feel like naughty schoolboys, on the verge of exploding into giggles.

“We want you to wreck us,” said John with a wicked smile. “Ruin our holes.”

Paul bit into his fist and squirmed on the spot, trying to stop the nervous laughter. He didn’t want Mal to think they were making fun of him.

“Why me?” said Mal. “You’re the leaders of the Beatles, you could have anyone…?”

“But we want you,” said Paul and wriggled over beside the larger man. He rested his head on the man’s thick bicep, curling his fingers over his trunk-like wrist.

“You’re so big and strong and bloody sexy, Mal,” he said, looking up at him through thick eyelashes. “John and I both want you so bad. Please. Please just destroy us.”

Mal swallowed roughly, his cheeks flushing red. No one could resist Paul McCartney’s coy seduction, none the less him.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” he murmured, still carrying a stunned look on his face.

The two Beatles slide over so they’re both at Mal’s side. Paul took his hand, kissed the broad knuckles, trailing his plush lips over Mal’s wrist. Then he pops the thick digits into his mouth, suckling them down. John puts his arms around Mal’s neck, nuzzles into his ear, licking and biting the lobe between his teeth. Mal’s face is glowing redder and redder.

“Don’t be gentle with us,” John whispers into Mal’s ear. “We want a good punishing.”

Paul felt his heart jump to his throat as the shyness on Mal’s face is suddenly replaced with burning lust. He wraps both arms around their shoulders, leans down to kiss underneath Paul’s eye, feeling the flutter of his long lashes on his face, then turns to press another kiss to the side of John’s mouth.

“Strip, both of you,” he demands in a voice all deep and husky. John and Paul are both almost trembling with excitement. As their clothes drop to a combined pile on the floor Mal reached for them.

He was taller, stronger by a mile. He picked up John up like he weighed next to nothing, parting his thighs and placing him across his lap. John and Paul watched, with eyes as wide as saucers as he took his cock out of his jeans.

“Got a third leg there,” John breathed out and the hint of bashfulness is in Mal’s face again. His cock is massive, bigger then both of the other men, bigger than any cock either of them had ever had. All thick and swollen with a long vein, the head glowing red.

Paul clambers around for the lube on the bedside table, feeling his naked skin alight with goosebumps. He collects a nice dollop in his hand, puts some in John’s palm and his partner immediately slides his own fingers past his eager hole. Mal is watching them, open-mouthed, eyes heavily lidded like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Paul reached over, taking the enormous cock in his grip. He already had small hands but they looked tiny now, straining to wrap around Mal’s width. He jerked him slowly, fist gliding up and down as John worked his own hole, chest heaving up and down with pleasure. The larger man shuddered all through his body. Then he gently pushed Paul’s hand away.

“Lie down beside John,” he said in a breathy rasp. Paul obeyed, nuzzling into John’s side. Mal leaned forward, pressing his cock against John’s slippery slick entrance.

Paul had seen John take multiple men in a night, seen him bounce on ridiculous sex toys, had fucked him hard himself over the years. Even then, he struggled to take Mal’s enormous cock. Paul watched as his face went slack with the pain, Mal still pushing and pushing, teeth gritted. He grabbed a handful of John’s fox coloured hair, large fingers digging into the flesh of his arse as he sunk in. John let out a choked sobbing sound as he was impaled. Mal began to thrust, the flesh of John’s thighs and arse rippling, his nipples pointed red.

Paul shoved his lube-soaked hand between his legs, sliding two fingers inside his tight hole. He pumped inside himself as he watched John take the enormous cock, the muscles in his thighs straining with the effort, glowing red in the face. Mal’s eyes flashed warningly at him and Paul breath fluttered in his throat. When Paul didn’t take his hand away Mal reached over, still pressed in balls deep and grabbed his wrist. He whimpered as Mal whispered; “get your other hand here.”

Obeying, he watched as Mal pulled his belt out of his jeans one-handed, gripping Paul’s wrists in the other bruising and firm. He hooked the belt around both John and Paul’s wrists. They were connected together and Paul squirmed on the mattress, feeling his thighs slick with pre-come.

Mal began pounding again, hard and brutal, balls smashing into John’s arse, his hole stretched, strained and struggling to take it. John’s eyes were glazed over, lips shining with spit. One of Mal’s big hands slipped between Paul’s legs. His fingertip was feather light against his lubed up hole and Paul bucked desperately into his palm. Two long, rough fingers circled his entrance, just dipping in and out of him. It was a ticklish, tingling torture.

Mal’s other hand was pinching John’s red nipple and with each squeeze, fresh droplets of come oozed from John’s pink cock. He increased the speed, thump, thump, thumping into his hole, until his rim was puffy and bright red, Mal’s purple cock pumping unrelentingly inside. Then he stopped squashed in to the hilt and pressed and pressed until John let out a broken whine of agony and pleasure.

He pulled all the way out and Paul had never seen John’s hole gape so obscenely open. Mal turned to Paul, glistening cock sticking up to his bellybutton and Paul felt a thrum of excited fear. Was he going to put it in his arse, his mouth, both? Paul was the same as John, had taken many a cock and toy and finger over the years, most of the time from John himself but he’d never had anything as big as Mal before. He was scared of the pain but craving it.

John was left heaving and almost crying as Mal moved across the bed. Mal’s shovel like hands were under Paul’s knees lifting his lower half easily up onto his lap. Fresh pre-come trickled down from Paul's aching cock as Mal started to slowly slide the enormous shaft and engorged head down and over his pink arsehole.

Grabbing a glob of lube he greased himself up. Then he repositioned his cockhead at his arse and Paul breathed shakily in and out. The stretch was glorious agony, all his nerves screaming and burning as Mal pushed in and in. His greasy slick hand gripped Paul’s thigh forcing them to part as far as they could go. The muscles in Paul’s legs jumped with pain. Mal’s face was coiled up, teeth gritted, his hair dripping sweat down onto Paul’s face.

Then he was in, balls deep into his quivering hole.

“Oh my god,” John breathed and brushed his lips against Paul’s throat. “That’s so fucking hot.”

He had never felt so stretched out in his life. The rim of his arse felt like it was about to burst. The hand on his thigh moved to his leaking cock, completely enveloping it. Paul thrashed on the mattress. It was too much. Throbbing pain in his arse, thick fingers wrapped around him all sending dizzying shockwaves through his body. Mal’s hips were beginning to thump forward, the squelching of the lube obscenely loud as he pumped his hand in tandem over Paul’s cock.

John was staring at them, pink cheeked, bucking desperately against the belt around his wrists, his fat cock straining for attention. Mal’s eyes shifted towards him. His other hand not jerking Paul off moved towards John. Two of his fingers entered John’s winking arse easily. The auburn-haired struggled to take a third, face furrowing up. Soon Mal was squelching inside as tears streamed down John’s face. He pumped the three fingers in mercilessly, opening them up and stretching him out to take a fourth.

John could barely breathe, gripping onto the sheets for dear life as Mal speared him with four fingers. He was moving slowly and jerkily, obviously finding resistance. He curled up his hand and finally edged his thumb inside. John’s puffy red rim clung around Mal’s fist before he sprayed come all over his belly.

Mal was deep inside Paul’s stomach, his cock outlined through his trembling skin. One finger was circling Paul’s cockhead as the other fist popped in and out of John’s arsehole over and over again.

Paul felt herself fading away into a white haze of bliss. He was coming, the liquid gushing up and nearly hitting his chin. Mal pulled his cock out, replaced it with two fingers easily. Paul’s head rocked to the side, watching as John shook, overstimulated around Mal’s fist. His eyes fell half shut as Mal added a third finger and a forth into his hole. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t take Mal’s entire fist. His body screamed in pain and pleasure, sparks going off in his body. He felt the press of his thumb against the rim and then all at once, Mal had a fist in each of them.

Paul’s eyes opened and he saw that John’s cock was filling up again and Paul felt his own do the same, weakly quivering against his swollen belly. He tried to suck in breath, all his skin alight and tingling, like it would shiver off his bones, the dull thumping pain in his arse like a knife to his insides. He saw John’s mouth hanging open, eyes fogged over, hole pulsing desperately around Mal’s fist. Then his cock spewed out another load of come.

Another orgasm ripped through Paul, his nipples painfully erect, his whole body a mess of spasms. He clenched his thighs down around Mal’s hips, arse clamping down on his hand. Mal grunted and his body stiffened, the muscles in his belly rolling. Without touching himself, Mal shot out hot thick come, spurting over both their arse-cheeks, littering their red skin with white droplets.

They were all silent and panting for a few long dizzying moments. Paul felt on the edge of falling into unconsciousness, absolutely exhausted. Slowly and carefully, Mal took his fists out of their holes, their inner walls gripping onto him. He patted both of their arses. Then he reached over to remove the belt.

“You’re the best roadie money can buy,” whispered John. Mal smiled sheepishly as Paul giggled, leaning over to take John’s face in his hands. John gasped into his mouth as Paul greedily licked and sucked at his lips.

Mal grasped his monstrous cock as he watched the two Beatles press their bodies hot and slick together, kissing and sliding their mouths against each other, tongues a sweet dance.

“Want to see us fuck each other?” Paul said to Mal with a coy smile.

“It’ll be like throwing a hotdog down a corridor for both of us now,” said John, a cheeky look on his face. Mal just grinned in reply.

“Go ahead,” he eagerly replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have one more idea that I want to do but then I'm pretty much empty of smut. After the next chapter I may disappear for a bit to fill up my head with smut inspiration again. I'd always appreciate prompts!


	7. Toys

Paul had an eager grin plastered on his face when John arrived home that evening. John felt his heart flutter in his chest at the sight of him. He was lying across their bed, only in his underwear, palming his cock through the fabric. Even after all their shared years as a couple, John still felt a thrill whenever he saw Paul’s bare body, the chubby belly, perky nipples and curvy hips, his long, fuzzy arms and legs.

“What are you so pleased about?” he said to the younger lad teasingly. Paul squirmed on the spot like an overexcited puppy. Reaching up to John, he pulled him down for a deep hungry kiss, nipping on his lips, his tongue dancing inside John’s mouth. Then he whispered;

“I bought something special for us.”

John could see the bright pink flush on his face, feel the trembling of his skin, hear the flutter of his heart in his chest and smell the sweet scent of his arousal. He ran a hand through his silky soft hair.

“You naughty boy,” he grinned back. Paul giggled and pulled away for the bedside table. John admired the curve of his back and bum as the younger man took something out of the drawer. It was a toy, nice and thick and shiny pitch black. For a second he just thought it was a standard dildo but then he realized there was no base. It had a rounded, plastic cockhead on both ends.

“They call it a double sided dildo,” said Paul. “We can both ride it at the same time.”

Immediately John felt his face heat up and his breath catch his throat, a prickle of sweat at the back of his neck. He exhaled harshly, feeling a delighted grin grow across his face.

“You are a depraved genius,” he whispered to Paul who beamed cheekily up at him.

“Hurry up and get ready I’ve been waiting for you for ages,” he said. “I nearly just shoved it in without you.”

“Eager are we?” John smirked back, but he felt his hands shake as he started taking off his shirt, trying to get out of his clothes as fast as he could. Paul shimmied out of his underwear, kicking them off. John felt like he could come on the spot as he watched Paul grab the bottle of lube from beneath the pillow, squeezing some out over his fingers.

Slicking himself up, Paul slipped his hand between his thighs, opening up his legs. His hole was pink, clenching and unclenching and he gasped when he slid his own lube-soaked finger inside. Half-shut eyes, lashes fluttering, face flushed, lips all swollen and spit-slicked. As John fumbled at his belt with shaking hands, the man beneath him began to finger himself even harder letting out tiny little gasps. His thighs were slick with sweat and lubricant and his entrance was burning hot and completely open for the toy.

“Fuck Paulie, you’re so damn hot,” John breathed as he climbed onto the bed with him, naked at last. Paul’s eyes dragged down his body taking in his thick thighs, arms and legs, his broad shoulders, the red flush all down his chest and his cock standing erect against his belly.

“Speak for yourself,” he replied huskily.

Pouring out a generous amount of lube, John stuffed his hand down between his legs, touched his own taint, felt the fluttering rim of his hole. His breath hitched deep in his chest as he thrusted one of his fingers inside himself.

Would they fit the toy inside their holes, slick and easy or would they struggle to get every last inch in? When they pumped it inside of themselves would Paul’s hair fall across his face and his eyes go half-lidded, mouth falling open, his cock bobbing pink and swollen against his thigh? Would they be able to see the outline of the toy through the delicate skin of their stomachs? Would the younger man whimper when he orgasmed, his sweet red hole trembling around the length of the hard plastic?

“How’re we gonna do this, baby?” John said. “Doggy-style?”

Paul shook his head firmly.

“I wanna look at you, Johnny,” he said with a burning gaze. John felt his flush grow stronger, his blood like boiling lava in his cheeks. God the man was going to kill him.

On their backs, they wiggled closer across the bed, until their thighs pressed slick and hot together, their legs entwined. Paul picked up the toy with his lube covered hand, rubbing the excess over the shiny black plastic. John reached over to do the same with the remnants of the lube in his palm.

Their fingers brushed together as they gripped the shaft of the dildo, moving the two plastic cockheads towards their eager holes. They moaned in unison, like a sweet song as John felt the thickness breach his rim, saw the other end begin to disappear inside the younger man’s ample arse. They pushed and pushed, staring into each other’s faces, the smooth plastic toy brushing wondrously against the inner flesh of his body. Then finally their stuffed holes connected together with a wet slick sound like a kiss.

“Oh…oh…” Paul mewled and grasped blindly for John’s hand. “Darling…”

“Jesus,” John gasped out as he squeezed his smaller hand tight. In perfect synch they began to rock their hips against each other, the plastic cock nudging against the sweet aching spot inside him, feeling his arse smack against Paul’s quivering cheeks. Feeling the familiar clenching of an oncoming climax deep in his belly, he watched Paul’s jiggly arse, his hole stretched and red, the toy disappearing deeper and deeper inside him. Paul was staring with heavy lids and an open mouth at the other end of the toy being driven by their thrusts into John’s firm, flushed arse. His eyes met Paul’s beautiful hazel gaze, feeling as though he could melt into the sea of blues, greens, golds and browns. Without speaking they understood each other. Reaching in unison, their hands enveloped over their cocks, squeezing and stroking them together in a flurry of brushing fingers. They were a mirror image, twin souls, connected in every way.

Paul thrashed, chest and face shining with sweat, letting out an animal wail as his orgasm wracked through him. John couldn’t breathe, the sight of the younger man in fits of ecstasy and the hard fake cock jostling inside him making him tip over the edge. The tightness in his belly unclenched all at once and with a cry, he felt the liquid bliss shoot through his blood sweet and tingling. They paint each other’s bellies with semen, the dildo trembling inside both of their bodies.

They both pant and wheeze as they try to recover from their shared climax. Slowly the two let the lube soaked dildo ease free from their holes until it squelches out onto the damp mattress.

“We didn’t last very long, eh?” Paul breathed with a blissful smile. “I think that’s the fastest we’ve both ever come.”

John said nothing. He just crawled over to cover his lover’s body with his own, smashing their mouths together in a starving kiss. He wants to pour all his love and adoration past the other man’s lips and into his heart. Paul wrapped his arms around John’s neck.

“I love you,” they whispered into each other’s mouths over and over until they have no breath left to speak any more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are all the ideas I had written down completed! So this series is done for now. I might leave it here or pick it up later or make another series. Perhaps a series where I'm not anon, I shouldn't be so shy to write smut! Anyway hope you all enjoyed, thanks for all the comments and suggestions and happy and safe holidays!


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